Rebecca’s.

I creaked across the floors as well, pouring hot water from the kettle over a tea bag I was still willing to revive. I didn’t waste the good in anything anymore, and when the cup was filled to the brim, I journeyed back to the table and resumed my catalog-flipping. Though I had no need for fleece jackets or wool gloves.

“Auntie Spencer!”

The name echoed from the walls and touched that faraway ceiling like bells in a cathedral. This was no longer sanctuary.

This was it.

“Maggie…”

That voice.

The screen door opened. Why hadn’t the front door been closed? Maggie must’ve gotten too hot and propped her collection of books in front of the heavy wood like always. It explained the clarity of the paint conversation. It explained the intensity of the breeze. I was surprised at the consistent. Amazed at the constancy. How could she be here on a day that seemed so average? Do people pay for their sins in the sunshine or regret in the rain?

“You’re here!” Maggie giggled, as though she had been waiting on a playmate for months. You’re never enough for children. They always need more than you, even if they never get it.

“I am. I’m here. It’s been too long, sweetheart.”

The tea cup rattled in my shaking hand, and I rested it quietly on the table.

“Where’s your mom?”

“She’s in there.”

I could see the scene in my head. Maggie pointing towards the kitchen, Spencer nodding and sighing the way she used to when she was anticipating. Tiny, eager eyes following her as she stepped towards the doorway before finally returning to the screen.

Playmate forgotten already.

My perspective was quite different. Piercing blue eyes met mine with a calmness that surprised and scared me. She said nothing, simply pulling out a chair and sitting down beside me as though we were old friends and she was to make no excuse about being late for tea. Friends don’t bother with such pointless tension.

“Sp-Spencer,” I stumbled, finding not a single location to place my trembling hands.

“Are you expecting company?” she asks, casually. But it’s dripping with undertone.

Aiden.

Rebecca.

Both.

“No.”

“You don’t get any visitors anymore?”

“I haven’t gotten any visitors in about two weeks. Before that, it had been a long time.”